Water For A Withered Heart
by Yusakuraki
Summary: Rated M for later chapters! Beginning in the future, Kirara explains how Kanbe and the other Samurai-dono saved Kanna Village, only to result in the bursts of love repressed. Once they have finally confessed their feelings, Ukyo comes back for revenge... He no longer is human and he wants the head of Shimada Kanbe, the Emperor-slayer. Can her water revive a withered heart?
1. Prologue

(I don't own any of the characters, this is just for fun! This is also the first fic I have done in over 7 years, so have mercy on me! ^-^; Love ~ Yu-san)

**PROLOGUE**

"Mamma, how did you and Papa meet?" A timid little voice resounded in the garden, a tone that felt welcomed in the stillness. The wisterias gently swayed in the warm spring wind as if they didn't mind the disturbed peace at all.

This little girl looked up at her mother eagerly with wide grey eyes, placing aside her scraps of silk she had been sewing to focus on the older woman. Her mother looked very young, but her own chocolate colored eyes glimmered. Her eyes were such a deep red that it was brown, showed a sense of wisdom. It was the kind of look that only someone who also had such life experience could know that an experienced soul laid within her form, and it showed in the confident smile she gave her daughter.

They both had matching hair, a lovely shade of brunette, dark and smooth and they both had matching, petite noses. Their lips were timid and pink, but in their feminine features is where one could confuse them for sisters rather than mother and daughter. That is, if it wasn't for the fact that the child had a shade of olive toned skin while her mother had more of a light beige color. The only other way to know how they were mother and child was their kimonos.

Her mother wore a light shade of red kimono with layers of beige, gold and blue, tied off with a purple obi. Her sleeves had white cranes in flight and along the folds was a silver dragon poised to strike. Likewise on the little girl's kimono was cranes that mirrored her mother's, though in smaller form.

"Well…" Her mother began, setting aside a neatly folded pile of black silk that she had been repairing to focus on her child. Her child, of course, who looked with an eager grin and a sense of wanderlust in those grey eyes, curious yet ever hopeful.

"That's a bit of a long story, but you remember that I told you that your father saved my village and killed Ukyo, the evil Emperor to save the people of not just Tokkaido and Kogakyo but the entire land, correct?"

"Yes!" The little girl chirruped immediately, twisting her little form to face her mother more easily. She didn't care if she wrinkled the fine linen of her kimono or expressed herself in an unmannerly way. As long as Tutor-sama wasn't there, who could scold her?

"Mamma, Big Brother and Big Sister said that you and Papa kissed before you were even married! Is that true, Mamma?" The little girl leaned in earnestly, eyes sparkling with a passionate delight for a new story to be heard.

The older woman flushed almost instantly a shade of pink akin to mature sakura blossoms, flabbergasted at the question and the accusation. The boldness alone, not the question, was enough to cause embarrassment. Ah, but alas the things that young children say! It reminded her a lot of Komachi, in a way. Her much younger sister, so many, many years ago was just the same way. Just as bold, and just as honest, and while it did warm her heart, it startled her as well. To think that her older, twin children would be up to mischief like this!

"Nozomi!" She chided, embarrassed that it was more than likely her first borns had read her private writings, writings that had very… _mature_ details written in them. Her composure turned a brilliant shade of maroon, cheeks flushed.

The little girl, Nozomi, laughed heartily and hid her mouth with her kimono sleeve in the manner of Courtesans and the noble women. To think that she, the daughter of a Daimyo and a peasant would ever be taught the ways of the Court, of the Shogun, would have been blasphemy years ago…

Maturing her expression, the mother relaxed a little and sighed, at first looking down at the smoothness of the marble bench on which they sat, neatly nestled under the wisteria tree. Shadows and light danced on the abstract swaying of colors, the black, whites and grays of the stone made her think of her husband greatly. That's right, she mused; Shimada Kanbe once wore the clothes of a ronin, so very long, long ago. The clothes of _seppuku _and cleansing, white and black, white and grey. Clothes that stayed as his shadow and reason to live for such a long time during and after the wars.

"To tell you how your father and I met, I must first tell you about the wars. You see, Nozomi, back then things were not as peaceful as it is now in the era of the Camellia, of Emperor Gonzo-dono's beloved rule. Things were much more dark, and this pain lasted for so long, even before I was born, Nozomi." She took a breath, looking seriously at her youngest daughter with an uncertain expression.

As the daughter of the Daimyo, her five year old child would need to know this painful history and remember it. There was a pause between the two, the little girl at first looked confused, then concerned and then finally affirmed. If her mother had suddenly become solemn, then there was an important lesson behind it.

"Tell me the story, Mamma." Nozomi placed both of her clenched fists onto her mother's lap, falling without sound into the cascades of black fabric that nestled there as well. Her own features had turned equally somber as her mother's.

"It was a long time ago, _koibito_," She said lovingly to her daughter, the child of her and the man she loved with all of her heart and soul even back then and even to that very moment.

Nozomi was the child of the Emperor-slayer and a Mikumari, a simple shrine maiden, a child with a great legacy behind her and now she would learn. She would learn her inheritance of blood and war and the responsibility she had as a Mikumari as well. Her inheritance of the court, and also the inheritance of the Kanna Village, so far away was also her's to know.


	2. Episode 1 - Cut!

_Long ago, the Warring Age stretched as long before our great grandfather's time, and on the battlefields that stretched farther than the eye could see, there were samurai. On the land, there were peasants and from afar, safe from the flames of war, the merchants watched. It was the samurai, my child, who held the era firmly in their fist._

_Time went on, and the pain, the blood, the suffering grew. Reasons for the wars, the strife and conflict were forgotten under the seas of vengeance, of egos and death, and it is here where the merchants striked. They took advantage of the pain, and bought the era, putting an end to a once thought to be everlasting war. Some were grateful that the war had finally came to an end, though many were not._

_Samurai, having lost their control over the era became bandits and ronin, while the peasants remained forgotten on the land. The swords of the bandits, the samurai who were betrayed, turned on the peasants they had protected during the war and they attacked without shame. The resounding mobility of the bandits was the object of terror for the peasants… And then… came Fate and Her red twisting cords of Destiny._

* * *

EPISODE ONE: **_CUT!_**

"Find the water, sacred water! Seek it out, seek it out, sacred water, seek it about! Mikumari, seek it out, the blessed water!"

Chanting and prayers echoed in the foggy morning of Kanna Village, a grand ceremony from the Goddess was occurring. One could hear it from across the valley, even as far as the lonesome few huts of the lower ranking villagers across the river. It made the sleepy village irradiate with an unknown kind of power.

"Blessed water, awaken!" The voices chanted louder in the heart of the village.

In two rows between the houses stood four villagers in their masks of the Goddess, one row on either side of the procession of the shrine Maiden. Behind this line stood the rest of the villagers who watched nervously and yet curiously onto the sight of the Maiden commune with the Goddess to find water for a well. As the village Mikumari, only she had a heart pure enough to talk to the Goddess.

The villagers who firmly chanted the prayers all wore white masks, each painted differently than the other with red paint. Some of their masks were elaborate and some were simply decorated. With a stick of silver bells in hand, they all shook, ringing them out loud in rhythm to the early summer morning. Each bundle in their hands rattled and the sacred red threads which adorned the tops of each stick were thrown with each quick movement. They were to act as symbols, and to make the sticks bow and chime in greeting of the Goddess and her everlasting guidance.

The entire world around them seemed as if it was frozen in place, with no breeze to be felt, nor any light to be seen. It was almost as if the earth itself awaited command in eagerness of the Goddess herself before rousing the world awake. Alas, peace never is eternal to any soul of good heart.

"Mikumari, share with us! Listen carefully! Seek it out, seek for it, seek ye about!" A young woman, clothed in a white and red ceremonial garb halted at the beginning of the rows of villagers whom cried out with each ring of their bells.

"May your drifting voice reach us, Goddess!" The other side cried out loud in a collective voice as this woman in question held tight to a teardrop shaped crystal in her hand, attached to her wrist with a leather cord.

Poised and ready to act, a little girl close behind her held onto a small stack of red written slips and behind her, an elderly woman nodded in approval. The young woman in front took a step forward after a long moment of observing the square shaped objects that glowed in her pendulum. All of the focus was on her and now the atmosphere began to tremble with anticipation and excitement. This was the moment of reckoning that they were all praying hard for.

"Seek it out, seek for it!"

"Mikumari, share with us! Listen carefully!"

The pendulum in her grasp flickered, the square stones inside of it moved slowly, circulating itself within the tear shaped crystal with iridescent colors. On the pendulum, a little eye stared at nothing and beside it, a smaller crystal shimmered. The Mikumari took a step forward, and the little girl placed one slip into her outstretched hand that was behind her back.

"_Show me. Water. Seek it, seek it, about, seek it thee!"_ She spoke to herself, lips parted as she pleaded with the pendulum to feel the earth below. She took another step forward, and the little girl placed another slip into her palm.

"_What do you feel?" _

"May your drifting voice reach us!" Now the young maiden began to chant as well, the crystal she held responded to the change of emotion.

**'****_Here.' _**

A voice resounded in her consciousness and she halted, standing still as once again the youngster behind her paused every other second to put more slips of paper into her palm.

"Blessed water, awaken!" She cried, and almost instantly did the pendulum stop glowing, the square stones within it fell lifelessly to the bottom of the crystal.

Her eyes snapped open with realization, and she folded her fingers around the bills that had been placed in her hand much to the surprise of the younger girl who immediately pulled back in wonder. Each member of the procession who rang the sacred bells also ceased their movements and stayed still as well. They were awaiting now the directions from the maiden, poised and prepared.

"How many voices of the Mikumari are there." The maiden asked, looking down at her feet to the moist ground.

"There are seven slips." The child looked from her hand that held the rest of the bills and back to the outstretched hand with a tone of confidence.

"Dig a hole seven measures deep where the crystal indicated. Water awaits us." The grandmother replied, bowing her head forward with her sacred brush in hand.

The villagers took off their masks, satisfied that the ceremony was now completed but some were concerned. A few of the people who had been behind the line already had their hoes and shovels at the ready when a voice lined with insularity spoke up.

"Will that be deep enough for a well?" A man with red messy hair quizzed, a hoe resting on one of his shoulders.

"Mhm." The maiden replied, wrapping her pendulum around her wrist and tied it securely.

"I didn't know what we were goin' to do when the old well dried up…" He said, looking quite relaxed and equally relieved at her.

"Praised be Mikumari-sama!" Another male villager with an oddly shaped bald head cheerfully placed his input into the conversation, earning many smiles of happiness and a similar look of satisfaction on his face.

Moving out of the way, the men approached the same spot the Mikumari maiden had been standing on with a hand drill, and watched at the ready for when they would have to dig by hand instead.

"We're always in your debt, Mikumari-sama. Much obliged to you." The grandmother spoke from beside the younger woman, bowing her head gently from under her blue cap.

To the older woman, the Mikumari did not turn to but rather, she looked back at the little girl who was whining, bent over with a rather pained expression.

"What's the matter, Komachi?" She murmured, concerned for her sister.

"I'm hungry!" The gates burst forth and Komachi sobbed, frowning in dismay.

Her elder sister laughed hard, enough to shake the tassels from her head covering. Of course little Komachi was hungry! But the issue was… she frowned and looked at nothing particular, deep in thought when the ground grumbled and vibrated violently.

Everyone froze in terror, all eyes on the sky and the approaching behemoth. It was large, surely over the length of several hundred measures up and wide as big as the ancient river that had to have a long bridge spanned across it in the village. It was a bandit, or more specifically the ship of the bandits.

"How come?! They gotta know it ain't harvest time yet!" Someone shrieked in horror and anger, the butterfly shaped ship scanned the still immature fields in silence. Intimidating, intimidating silence…

"The rice ain't the only thing they've come to take!" One of the male villagers, still wearing his mask fearfully spoke up. "I heard that recently they come and took the women, the food, and anything else of worth from Minokichi's village!"

Everyone in standing collectively took a step back, Komachi hid herself on her sister's lap in fear. Who knew what they were here for? Would it be their last day alive? Dead on the whimsy of an angry bandit?

"Hurry!" Rikichi, the man who had the unruly red hair tied off on his brow sprang into action and leapt forward. "Take the Mikumari-sama to the shrine! Hurry!" He shouted, reaching for her but fell short.

The other villagers whimpered and cried, falling to their knees, Their foreheads kissing the moist dirt firmly. Only in surprise and shaking fear did the grandmother, Komachi, Rikichi and the Mikumari stood firm against the sight of the ship that floated past them. What were they here for? Wordlessly, it left as quick as it came, leaving more questions than answers.

Not much longer had the bandit passed by them did Grandfather call for everyone to meet at the Elders house. It was the center of the village in terms of knowledge, rule and decision making, with its large wheel being held quietly by the gentle stream of water. It was where for generations had the village held rituals, communed and discussed things with the Elders. Today, the doorway was crowded and the villagers congregated tightly inside its walls and outside of it in eagerness.

"It's almost harvest time." A voice began in the dark shadows of the building, it was too risky to light a fire or torch to prying eyes. "I think that one who came today was checkin' on the condition of the rice ears."

"Is it that time already?" Another voice asked in shock.

"They're goin' to come take everythin' away from us again!" Yelled an exasperated, frustrated voice from a far corner of the building. "Year in and year out, we ain't growin' our rice just so the bandits can eat it!"

"Say, isn't there something we can do? These days I lay down on the floor and all I hear is their rumbling. I can't even sleep!" Someone else shouted their input.

"Ah, for mercy's sake… what are we going to do?" Someone whispered, their form barely visible in the growing sunlight between the wooden slats of the building.

"We've gotta kill the bandits." Rikichi started mindlessly, calmly speaking his opinion.

"Kill the bandits, you say?!" A man next to Rikichi gasped.

"That's the only way to keep them from comin' back again!" Rikichi got on his knees and turned to face the other man with determined eyes.

"Don't be absurd! How're we supposed to fight the bandits?!" A bald man behind him hissed, also on his knees to confront Rikichi and Grandfather. "They've rebuilt their own bodies into weapons so that they can fight!" He paused. "Use your head a little bit more, Rikichi!"

"So what?" Rikichi countered, "is raising rice year in and year out this way without sayin' nothin' is all we can do?!"

"All us peasants can do is put up with it!" Came the response equally as fast."Once the bandits come, we hold our tongues and go out to greet them. There're any number of villages who opposed them and they killed everybody. Compared to that, it's much better for us since we're allowed to live." The older man said, echoing a sense of truth and saddened agreement in the room.

Rikichi rushed forward, gritting his teeth and grabbed the other man by the front of his clothing. "That's ridiculous!" He spat. "How could anythin' be so ridiculous?! What the hell do we do it for?!" The redhead screamed, throttling his peer.

"Cut it out Rikichi! We know how you feel! For now, control yourself!" Other male villagers ran to the rescue of the older man immediately, trying to make distance between the two.

"Why you!" Rikichi shook off his assailants when another voice joined the fray.

"We should kill them!"

Everyone ceased movement, breaths hitched in a mixture of surprise, horror and amazement at who was speaking.

"We should kill the bandits!" The voice declared firmly, with no sign at all of hesitation or consideration.

"Grandfather, that's crazy! We can't fight them!" The man who Rikichi was fighting had broken out of his grasp to address the Elder with eyes wide in sheer fear of the unknown.

"We'll hire samurai." Grandfather countered smoothly, causing everyone in the room to straighten up. Was it hope that made them attentive now? Or was it fear?

"I ain't ever heard of peasants hirin' samurai, Grandfather." At long last someone spoke up.

"I've seen it with my own eyes. After the last war ended, the bandits ran wild. Their blades they once used to protect us were the same ones they turned against us. When they did, the only villages they didn't burn were those that hired samurai." He paused for effect. "Samurai are the only ones that can take them on."

"That's it, Grandfather! Samurai!"

"Yeah but samurai are proud men. Where are you gonna find someone hard up enough to listen to the plea of farmers?" The same one that fought Rikichi quizzed the Elder.

"We'll let them eat their fill of rice. Find us some hungry samurai." Grandfather said matter-of-factly.

"If we're goin' to look for samurai, we'll have to go into town…" Rikichi murmured, sounding conflicted.

"That's one scary place!" Someone piped up to the agreement of others.

"I'll go!" At once, Rikichi volunteered.

"Mhm, you go." Grandfather replied, nodding thoughtfully.

From the shadows, the Mikumari strided forth, her pendulum hidden in her palm. "Grandfather!" She began, stopping not far from his seat. "Might I go along as well?"

"Kirara, wait!" The voice of Grandmother was heard from behind her, and sure enough, the elderly lady glanced up at the younger woman with a stern look.

"Grandmother, I can tell which samurai-sama could be of help to us." Kirara explained quickly, showing the gleam of the crystal from the grasp of her palm as evidence.

"Mikumari-sama, findin' a samurai ain't like findin' water." Grandfather began. "Besides, the city ain't no place for a young lady."

"Rikichi-san will be with me. There is nothing to worry about."

Each face within the room looked worriedly at each other, and each one also looked hopeful as well. There were many risks in this situation, but how badly did they really want to break free from a life no better than that of a slave? Losing the Mikumari would mean a large gamble if the well that had been dug that day has dried up when she was gone… could they really be alright with this?

"If the Mikumari-sama says so…" One of the men who sat at the left hand side of Grandfather softly began to talk.

"Then it's settled. Mikumari, maiden of the shrine, we're counting on you." Grandfather wasted no time once gaining an ounce of approval from the villagers.

"Right!" Kirara perked up, her smile illuminated by the light outside. Her oval face was highlighted and so was the fine features of her headdress.

"Before the ears of rice start bowin' their heads, come back with some samurai… got that?" Grandfather said, watching her carefully with one eye.

Quietly, Kirara nodded and allowed the silence to be her ally in the oppressing air of the room. At long last, she could see the outside world, bandits or samurai… The Mikumari would not fail.

By the end of the day, they were on the road to the city. It would be a day or two before they arrived, and there was no time to spare. Packing rice, their futons and some other supplies quickly, they left the village with a few smiles from the villagers. Most were afraid they were going to fail, and Kirara knew that they felt that way behind those poorly held smiles.

'Soon, it will no longer have to be this way.' The Mikumari thought to herself as they left, walking at a comfortable pace.

"I will be sure to protect you both, I promise."

"We're grateful, Rikichi-san." Kirara replied, focused on walking forward through the rice fields. It was a narrow pathway between the large rice paddies, and with Komachi happily skipping beside them, it wouldn't be a surprise if someone slipped and fell.

"With sister's crystal, we're sure to do fine!" Komachi commented, swinging her arms back and forth with each step she took, ignoring how her pom-poms bounced on her forehead.

"Komachi, you didn't need to come along too…" The elder sister smiled warmly, looking back at her younger sister from under her shaded hat.

"I wanted to see the outside too! I'm not going to let you have all the good times by yourself, Sister." Komachi replied, smiling just as wide with a look of pure mischief.

"So that's the reason you're coming, is it?" Kirara turned away, saddened for a brief moment that Komachi wasn't coming along because she would miss her sibling but rather, it was because she thought it was going to be fun to go. Although, deep down, she couldn't really blame her little sister. She wanted to see the outside world too.

Two more days and she would finally see the outside world. Just two more days...Kirara mused, her hand clutching the crystal tightly with butterflies in her stomach. They could not fail, not with the guidance of the Goddess and not with so much at stake.


End file.
